Astrid poked at the mutated corpse with a tentative claw, unable to look away. Most of the dragons had gone back to sleep, including the one who had done this, but she couldn't. Not yet.
The body was part human and part Gronckle, with a charred and scorched part between the halves, the border. As far as she could tell, the change only went so deep; the back of the body was all human. Like a blade, the Solar fire had a distance inward it could go before stopping. It didn't spread, it just burned all in that range, and nothing more.
What was worse, in her eyes, was the charred border. No blood would be lost from wounds dealt this way. It cauterized as a part of the process.
The bottom line was that one dragon couldn't use this against Inferna, not to kill. It would do damage, but unless Inferna's scales were a lot thinner than they looked, it wouldn't go nearly deep enough. Painful, dangerous in the right place, but not unavoidably fatal.
She had figured as much before her closer examination, though. Limited or not, it was still far and away her best weapon, by virtue of being her only weapon. She needed a way to be sure or at least relatively certain that her first attack would be fatal for Inferna. Attacking before she had a strategy that ensured as much was wasting her chance and her life.
But, and it might just have been the effects of the time of year, Astrid was feeling optimistic. She could figure this out. It was not impossible. She had the key, now she just needed to find the lock.
She turned away from the body and almost smacked her nose against a grey-scaled Gronckle. "Wha–" she blurted, rearing back.
"Sorry," he rumbled, backing away. "I was wondering what you are looking at. It is just a dead body."
"An interesting one," Astrid muttered.
"Very. Does it bring to mind a Flightless you knew who deserves this kind of retribution?" the Gronckle asked curiously. "You still have your Solar fire."
"And so do you," Astrid observed. She couldn't sense it in him, or see it, but she just knew. The flame in her chest resonated with the one in his.
"Yes. So?" He nudged the corpse.
"I don't think I'm going to be using it for killing a Flightless," Astrid said, trying to sound like she had seriously considered such a thing. She wanted to use it against Inferna, but she couldn't tell any dragon that. Word might be brought to Inferna.
"I suppose you are saving it to make another of your kind, then," the Gronckle rumbled.
"Definitely not, I'd never do that!" Astrid objected, glaring at him. "I was taken from my life. Do you really think I'd be horrible enough to do the same to someone else?"
"So you do not want to look for a better mate than the Bolt who changed you?" he asked, unapologetic.
"No. I want no mate. I'll probably die with this fire. I'm certainly not going to use it on someone to change them." She didn't know why this Gronckle was bothering to ask, either. From what she knew, he was no candidate. He was far too big.
"Come with me," he requested. "My kind have an offer for you." He waddled away, walking to a small group of various dragons. There were a few Nightmares, a Zippleback, and two Nadders. They were huddled in a circle, appearing asleep from a distance. As she got closer, she could see that they were awake, but lying still. Waiting.
Something was wrong here. This Gronckle had come with all the others, and she knew she had not seen this group together at any point before now. From what she recalled, the two Nightmares were mates, and some of the other dragons were mated to dragons not present, while others had no mates to speak of and no other reason to associate. There was no common thread to bind them together.
She followed anyway, because she did not sense a threat or deception in any of this. It felt like she was being let in on something, not tricked. If anything, all of the slumbering dragons unaware of what was happening were the ones being tricked; a group did not assemble in the dead of night if they openly associated during the day.
The Gronckle ushered her into the center of the little circle and blocked the way she had come in with his body. "Tell them what you told me," he requested quietly.
"About Solar fire?" She might be penned in, but the atmosphere suggested they were wary of her, not the other way around. "I said I wouldn't use it to change anyone, for myself or not. Why?"
"Anyone?" one of the Nadders asked skeptically. "Flightless or Flicker, willing or not?"
"Anyone." She was never going to run into anyone willing to become a dragon, but even if they were and knew it was an option, she'd... well, she might not refuse. "Maybe if they really, really wanted to change, but even then, I don't want to."
"Acceptable," the Zippleback hissed. "Do you all concur?"
The Nadders nodded, and the Nightmares rumbled agreeably. The Gronckle grunted noncommittally. "I think so, but we shall see. We thought the Bolt was the same, but look how that ended."
Astrid felt an irrational urge to defend the Night Fury, and decided to follow through. "I would have died, otherwise. I do not condone what he did, but it was not so much that he broke his principles as bent them to save my life." Maybe that contradicted her reasoning for whether she'd use her own Solar fire, but she didn't care. She could acknowledge that he had done the best he could while also believing that it was a terrible experience and not one she'd visit upon another.
"We did not know that..." the Zippleback's right head hissed.
"... and we do not need to fear him anyway as he has no Solar fire," the other finished. "I suppose we will stop avoiding him. There are some times it is acceptable. He did not break our trust." She sounded relieved by that.
"Agreed," a dozen voices announced, small but numerous. Terrible Terrors crept out from every possible place, revealing themselves to have been hiding all over the larger dragons around Astrid. Every Terror on this trip might be there.
Astrid turned in a slow circle, trying to figure out what she had just been shown. "This is a group," she guessed slowly, "of flames who are against what happened to me."
"Flightless or Flicker," one of the Terrors said, "we deserve to live unafraid of being forced into another form, another life."
"But that cannot happen," an older Terror said sadly. "So we hide. Except from those who we know feel the same way."
"Like me," Astrid said, finally understanding what was so important about what she'd said… and indeed, why she had been asked in the first place.
"Like you," the female Nightmare agreed. "And I suppose the male Bolt once more, now that we know he did not act against our beliefs. We have long made exceptions for imminent death or debilitating injury. I myself was blind, before." She blinked deliberately, drawing attention to her completely intact and functional yellow eyes.
"We also make exceptions for those who very much want to change," the male beside her added.
"But some of us had no choice," the Zippleback growled. "Do not think we are all happier as we are now. I miss having all of my thoughts in one place." She knocked her heads together. "Do you know how frustrating it is to need to confer with one's own mind to come to conclusions?"
The others all quietly rumbled or growled to convey their sympathy, leaving Astrid with another suspicion. All of the dragons here were originally Terrible Terrors, and were changed for whatever reason. The female Nightmare had been blind, and the male implied he had wanted it, but the rest...
She had to ask. "Why were you changed?" She asked the Zippleback, but she would like to hear from the Nadders and Gronckle too, if possible. "All of you…"
"A while back, Blasts were on the decline," the Zippleback said shortly. "Several took Flickers as mates. I was one of those taken. The Blast who changed me never even asked. He died shortly after, in a raid."
"That happened to us, too," the Nadders said in unison. Both were female. The one on the right continued on her own. "A male Flare could not find a mate to his liking, so he changed a Flicker. His Sire did the same, because he did not like his son's choice of Flickers. Little did they know or care that we were twins, hatched from the same egg, and that neither of us took kindly to any of what they intended."
"We take no mates," her sister growled. "We raise no hatchlings. All we have is each other, and our family, who are now not even the same kind of flame. We are not Flares, no matter what we look like."
"Personally, I did not choose this body," the Gronckle rumbled agreeably, "but I kind of like being a Coal. It does not bother me now, though it did for a long while. I even grew to love the one who changed me, after she admitted she was wrong to do so. I would not leave her now, and she is one of our group."
"We have different stories," the female Nightmare concluded. "And different opinions on our circumstances. But we are all either former Flickers, currently Flickers, or flames who think the way we do. You are the first Flightless to join the group."
"The Bolt's Dam did not really do anything except survive," added an abnormally large Terror, perhaps half again as long as the others. He wound his way up one of the Nadders, coming to a stop nestled between her prominent head spines. "We offered, since she was obviously an extreme example of all we stand against, but she did not seem to understand the point."
"What is the point?" Astrid asked bluntly.
"Protect Flickers from being changed against their will," the Zippleback snarled. "We watch for anyone who seems to be getting ideas in that direction, and if at all possible discourage them. At the same time, we encourage other uses for Solar fire."
Such as spending it on killing a hated enemy. Astrid remembered that the Terrors had been happy to support this entire endeavor. "Every flame without Solar fire–" she began.
"Is one more flame we do not have to fear," the large Terror finished for her. "Most of us Flickers get rid of ours early on. It is entirely useless as a Flicker, aside from experimenting with."
"Experimenting?" Astrid asked.
"We can show you when we get back to the nest," he said affably. "The Blast who studies Solar fire thinks up new things to try with it, and we are happy to use ours to test those things, since we have no other use for it." He jumped off of his perch on a Nadder's head spines and landed at Astrid's paws. "You are one of us, right? You will help protect us?"
"Whenever I can," she agreed, feeling it her duty. She was connected to this issue, being either a victim or beneficiary, depending on how one looked at it. Stopping other people from ending up like the Nadders or the Zippleback… sisters… seemed like a good thing to do.
That thought led her to her other duty, her other vow. "How does Inferna stand on all of this?" she asked. She expected nothing good, but she needed to know.
The overly large Terror answered her with a low coughing growl. "Exactly as she stands on all other issues, in a place that would get her killed if it was at all possible. Sometimes, when both food and flames are scarce, she has us mate many times each season, so that other flames can use their Solar fire to change our children into the largest flames possible, all so that she has more food."
"And that is double the atrocity, because immature flames do not cope well with the change," the female Nightmare said angrily. "The few who were not eaten immediately never really grew into their forms. They were as frightened, confused fledglings until they died."
Astrid winced. If Inferna was not already at the top of her to-kill list, she would be after hearing that. As it stood, she didn't think it was possible to justifiably hate her any more.
One of the Nightmares raised their head out of the huddle, looking around. "Nobody has noticed, but we should get to sleep soon. There is a long flight ahead."
"Yes. Female Bolt, you must understand that this group is secret," the other Nightmare said gravely. "Not that you have the favor of the Flickers. In fact, one will ride on you tomorrow, to demonstrate that. But that we former Flickers are involved, that we organize and meet and have our own goals must remain unknown, else Inferna will put a stop to it."
"So I can be friends with Flickers, but I shouldn't tell anyone about the rest of you, or that you are working together?" Astrid asked. "What harm is there in others knowing, so long as you make sure they won't tell Inferna?"
"Inferna is not the cause of the danger to us," the large Terror said gravely. "Not this particular danger. It comes about whenever someone gets it into their head that their perfect mate is one randomly-seized Flicker away from existing. If all knew of this group, our efforts would be anticipated and ignored by those who might otherwise have been subtly swayed away from the idea."
"Okay," she conceded, "I will keep the secret." Thankfully, the Night Fury was already a member, and thus not included in her promise to protect the secret, as he already knew. She looked forward to getting his perspective on all of this. He had probably been a part of this clandestine group for a while before changing her and losing their favor, and might have some insight they would not know was important, or would not know to tell her.
The group broke apart after that, the Nadders settling down alone and the Nightmares leaping up to patrol the island, looking out for trouble, while the others separated to blend back into the larger crowd. Astrid resettled in the sand, determined to get some sleep before dusk.
~O~o~O~
When Astrid woke, there was a brief period of time in which she was sure she had dreamed all of the night's clandestine events. That uncertainty ended the moment a mottled blue and purple Terrible Terror dropped onto her back right as the flock was setting out once more.
"Red Flare," a Zippleback flying above her asked loudly, "am I seeing things?"
"No, I see it too," the Nadder he had spoken to replied. "No telling who they will take a shine to, is there?"
"None they can know," the purple Terror hissed at Astrid, clinging to the scales just behind the base of her neck. He was a dense but entirely tolerable weight, and Astrid didn't really mind him being there.
"None at all," Astrid murmured back. "Will you be with me the whole way back?"
"Yes. I think I will sleep most of the trip, but not right now." He shifted his weight, picking at her back with tiny claws. "You need to remove these scales, you know. They are old and dull."
Astrid looked around for Stormfly, paranoid she would swoop in to chastise her despite not even being here. "I'd planned to do it a few nights ago, but then we came out here." It had totally slipped her mind.
"It's fine, as long as you don't plan on looking your best or being comfortable," he chuffed, a small and almost adorable sound coming from a dragon his size. "I can peel the ones I can reach, if you'd like, but most of the rest you'll have to do yourself, or have the male Bolt help you with."
"Why him? I can get someone else to help. But yes, please." The Terror could only reach her back, so it wasn't like he'd be touching anything she wouldn't want him touching. He was a different kind of dragon anyway. It was freeing to not need to worry about whether any given male was going to try and proposition, or just talk her up and hope she was receptive. She didn't have to second-guess anything with that consideration in the back of her mind.
"You cannot reach every part of yourself, and if Inferna has her way he will be getting to know every part of you sooner or later," the Terror said, slipping his small claws under a scale that had been itching recently, peeling it up and away like an old scab. "Wow, you really have been putting this off. There's already another scale coming in under this one."
"What do I do if I'd rather not have him help?" she asked with a low growl. "Or anyone at all?" She had already suspected it would be impossible to reach all of herself, the Night Fury's previous shows of flexibility notwithstanding, but she had just assumed it would not be a problem. Surely she had to be capable of adequately caring for herself without any outside assistance.
"You would be resigning yourself to itching and looking ragged indefinitely," the Terror said bluntly. "Which is doable, do not misunderstand me. You'll get used to it. The Blast you met last night goes without. Alternatively, you could ask that Flare who sings your praises. She would probably do it, and it would not mean anything other than that you trust her."
Astrid had been ignoring the itching, so she knew that at least was true. It was easily tolerable. But she also had to admit that her back was feeling far more flexible and free now, and only a few scales had been removed. The idea of asking Stormfly for help made her want to hide her face and crawl under a rock, and the Night Fury was absolutely out of the question, but at least the lack of comfort would be restricted to where she could not reach. After spending most of her life wearing various clothes, she was used to being just slightly constricted or uncomfortable.
That thought brought Astrid to another aspect of her current life that had somehow escaped her consideration. She was technically naked, and had been for weeks now. It didn't feel that way; her body was so much more durable that she could barely feel the cold air on her face right now, though it would probably be enough to give frostbite to a human. The sensation of losing old scales was very much like taking off tight clothes, which was what had brought it to her attention.
Having scales was a big adjustment, but on the whole she didn't miss wearing clothes, practical or otherwise. She did miss her braid, but her ears and frills made up for it.
She missed a lot of things… Though when she tried to recall what, she had a surprising amount of trouble remembering specifics. Not training or anything about exercise; this body was superior for any of that, made to be in peak physical condition far beyond anything a human could achieve, and more easily maintained on top of that. Not throwing her ax; fire was more fun and far more devastating in a fight. Flight utterly overthrew anything else on the list of physical activities she might otherwise miss. Walking, running, and even acrobatics had nothing on cutting through the air itself.
She did still miss her hands. Having a tail to point and touch with was okay, but holding small things was difficult, as the shell quite continuously proved. She had barely been able to figure out carrying that thing securely. But one half-there regret did not a list make. Especially when it was easy to name the many, many things she had found herself appreciating recently.
Her season-enforced good mood might be coloring her perception, though. It was, if the Night Fury was to be believed, meant to smooth over irritations. She would have to come back to this question once that was gone if she wanted a real assessment of whether or not this body was better overall.
"This will be a tough one," the Terror warned, tugging at her back. "Don't be surprised if you feel a little pinch. You have big scales. Strong muscles. How long do you think you can fly without stopping? Longer than my kind ever could. We take turns resting on Blazes and Blasts on trips like these."
"I have never considered it." She knew she should be able to go at least from the nest to Berk, because the Night Fury had done it, but that probably wasn't the extent of her endurance. "Maybe all day and night?"
Another scale left her back. She flexed her shoulder muscles, jostling the Terror a little. The flexibility and clean feeling of having those old scales gone was great. Putting off grooming was a stupid thing to do.
The Terror's weight moved further down her back. "So... how are you with all of this?" he asked. "You seem happy enough, but I know that is just the cold-season approaching."
She had not been asked that in a long while, if ever. "How am I?" It was a good question. "Well, Inferna puts a cramp in all of this." A very big, painful cramp.
"Ignoring her, she ruins all of our lives," the Terror grumbled. "Forget her and what she might do."
That helped narrow it down a lot. "I don't hate my life," she summarized. "I can fly, I have a few friends, and I know I'm not betraying my people."
"You're not?" he asked as he tugged up another, smaller scale.
"They only fight to protect their food, because they need it," she explained. "You only fight because Inferna wants it. It doesn't have to be one or the other, for me. I know who the real enemy is."
"But you fired on them," he objected.
"I did structural damage only," she admitted. "It hurt their response, it helped the flames raiding, but I didn't kill any of them. And the ones on the island we just raided are enemies of my group of Flightless anyway. They are also mutual enemies. So I can attack them without an issue."
"Oh, you blasted that big one to pieces!" he chirped. "We are all glad to see him gone."
"And the Flightless of my island will be happy to hear of it too," Astrid explained enthusiastically. "He was a big enemy of our leader. They were friends once, but he betrayed us and got some of our people killed." That was the word around Berk, anyway, what was whispered in corners of the Great Hall when Alvin and the Outcasts came up in conversation.
"So you helped everyone," the Terror said, getting her point. "You seem to like helping people. You help the Bolt."
"He needs it." The old Astrid would not agree that she liked helping people, but she had changed, and that did seem to be part of who she was now. There was enough pain and suffering in the world without her ignoring things she could fix.
"He does. We could never help him, though. He only responds to you." The Terror laughed squeakily, his voice now a little more distant. He was by the base of her tail, now. "You should have seen the Flare when you were last gone and she was in charge of helping him. No matter what she did, he barely responded. It quite entertained the rest of the nest, but he was like a rock. Then you show up, and he starts talking immediately."
"How do you know about that?" She could have sworn nobody was around to see that moment.
"Nobody notices us, because we don't want them to." Astrid felt a prick of pain by her hips. "Whoops, that one's not quite ready. Sorry."
"It's fine. You can stop now, I'll get the rest." He was getting close to places she didn't want him nosing around, even if he wouldn't be able to reach said places from her back anyway.
"Okay." He scurried back up to the depression between her wing shoulders and curled up there. "I am going to sleep now."
"Go ahead." Carrying a passenger was a peculiar experience, but she was pretty sure she liked it. Or maybe she just liked that her back felt supple and free again, as opposed to restricted and a little itchy. This flight was going to be more pleasant than she had thought.
~O~o~O~
Astrid's Terror passenger did not wake up until they were well into the fog. He started twitching, his grip on her back loosening. Astrid fell back, slowing down so that her passenger wouldn't just slide right off while still asleep. "Wake up, Flicker," she called out.
The Terror yawned and stretched, poking at her back with his small claws. "Home. Don't take us into the nest, neither of us has to bring prey. Take us down to the far side of the shoreline. I am supposed to show you where we do our experiments."
That sounded interesting. "You do them on the shore?" she asked.
"No, we don't." The Terror didn't continue until Astrid had put some distance between herself and the pack, easily dropping down into the sea stack maze and weaving her way far from the group. "We have tunnels. This place had Rings a long time ago."
"What's a Ring?" she asked.
"Flames who chewed through solid stone and could make rings of fire," he clarified. "This was once their home. Their warren is mostly collapsed, but the first few chambers are ours, and the old tunnels of the fledgling Rings make a network of passages nobody else is small enough to use."
Rings were what dragons called Whispering Deaths, if Astrid was interpreting this correctly. So that was how the Terrors were never around! She barked a short laugh. "Sounds great. You make me wish I was small enough to use those."
"They are cramped, complicated, and dark," he disagreed hurriedly. "I envy you for being able to walk around without fear. Well, now, anyway."
Astrid didn't reply to that. They were gliding into sight of the shore now, and she was approaching from the opposite side to her original angle. No other dragons were around. "So, how do I get into the places I can fit?"
"See that square boulder resting on one of its corners? Go there," her small passenger directed. Once they were at that boulder, he hopped down and flew in a short circle around her. "All clear," he announced.
The boulder shifted of its own volition, tilting with a laborious grinding sound to lay mostly flat against the ground. A dark and circular passage extended down into the solid stone behind it, and a dozen Terrors stood there, staring fearfully at Astrid.
"She is one of ours," Astrid's Terror guide squeaked. "Quick, let her in before somebody notices."
Astrid squeezed around the boulder and into the tunnel, wondering how the Gronckle or Nightmares got in through such a small gap, and made sure her tail was safely out of the opening. Then the Terrors flew out and launched themselves at the makeshift door. They managed to shift it back up to leaning on its corner, though they locked themselves out in the process, having pushed it back from that side. The nest's ambient light was completely cut out as it settled into place.
"There are other ways to get in, so they will have no trouble coming back to open it again later," her guide explained, leading her forward. "Most of these tunnels are too dark to linger in for long, but there is one place that is good and large enough for other kinds of flame. That is where we are going."
The tunnels weren't too dark for her; she could see well enough. She had no difficulty following him a short way into the rock, along a winding tunnel that seemed to double back at a certain point.
And then there was light ahead, and Astrid stepped into an open space. She looked around, amazed.
As best she could tell, this area was technically outside the volcano itself, and judging by the cracks that shed light into the area, one that was only a few smashed boulders away from being in the open. As it was, it was a large chamber that resembled a rock lean-to so sturdy as to be solid rock itself. The ceiling was high above, and there was enough space for her to leap around at random without much chance of hitting something, were she so inclined, at least a dozen paces across at its narrowest point.
It was not, however, an empty chamber. Astrid squinted at a shadowed nook in the nearest wall, where a few Terrors were wrestling energetically, one on top of the other. Her eyes were good, but not perfect, and the shadows created by what little light there was in this chamber made it harder to discern anything than pure darkness would have, at least for her.
Her guide saw where she was looking. "We lose too many to stick to the natural times for that," he sighed. "But they should not be doing it in here."
Astrid yelped and hurriedly looked away. Not wrestling. She had no desire to see that.
"You will be fun to watch during the ceremony," the Terror mumbled. "You two," he called out, "are embarassing a guest. Go do that somewhere out of sight!"
The two Terrors froze, swiftly untangled themselves, and bounded out into a shaft of grey light. "The Blast should not be here for a while longer, we thought we had time," the male complained. "And what do you mean, embarrassed?"
"Don't be stupid, she's even newer than a freshly-changed Flicker," the female hissed, slapping the male. "Different ways of doing things. We will go somewhere else," she said loudly, looking at Astrid. "Sorry for that."
Astrid nodded numbly, more worried about the remark about a ceremony than what she had been unable to really see going on in the shadows. She might have to spend a few days off-island if the 'ceremony' was as bad as she was guessing.
"Yearlings are bad enough," her guide huffed once the other Terrors had left, "but the older we get, the less considerate we are."
So there was some shame in being seen doing... that. She was glad. That made her worries a little less likely to be correct.
"So..." she began, wanting to change the subject to anything else, "they are old?"
"Two of the oldest around. Both have lived more than ten cold-seasons," he said proudly. "Our kind could live to fifty or sixty, but around here, living to ten in the same body one starts with is an accomplishment."
She couldn't imagine living to ten years old being considered old by any measurement, and she doubted that the Terrors really thought so, either. "That's horrible," she rumbled.
"It is what it is," he said, dismissing her sympathy. "Inferna's fault, of course, and not just because she eats us. She also is forcing us to live with other kinds of flame. Flickers only flourish when we live alone. We can't do that here."
"At least being eaten is a threat endured by all," two voices added, the Zippleback Astrid knew to be an expert on Solar flame stepping out from the tunnel she herself had just come from. "What is done to your kind by those other than Inferna is a burden you alone bear."
"Save the speech for the flames who could not give it themselves," Astrid's guide suggested. "She is with us."
"I am not surprised," the Zippleback's left head remarked. "She would of course know the consequences of what can be done by Solar fire."
"But why is she here? Is she here to see our latest test?" the other head asked enthusiastically. "Then let us begin."
"Wait for the other Flickers, at least," the Terror reminded him. "What is it this time?"
"We thought to try and use Solar fire to create food," both heads explained in unison. "The dark green Flicker has been envisioning a massive fish for a long time now, and voluntarily stopped eating half a moon-cycle ago. If anyone can do it, she can."
Even as they spoke, two Terrors trotted into the room, one carrying a dead fish, and another slinking along. The latter Terror was visibly emaciated, her eyes bright and ravenous and locked on the fish in front of her.
"I do not think she will wait," the Zippleback observed. "Remember, Flicker, you must try your hardest to make it massive. Flame it all!"
"I know, I know, I've thought of nothing else," the dark green Terror whined. "Drop it and get out of the way!"
The Terror holding the fish did exactly that, running for cover as she pounced on the fish like a starving dragon… because she was a starving dragon.
She hesitated, drooling profusely and twitching, her claws dug into the fish. "One small fish, or one massive one," the Zippleback reminded her. "You know what you want."
She snarled and began burning the fish with Solar fire. Again, it looked unnatural coming from her small body, though less so than on the Gronckle. It also lasted much longer, long enough for her to cover the entire fish from head to tail, on both sides. The little Terror even had to cut it off intentionally, rather than running out. She coughed and stared at the now smoking fish.
The flickering glow did not come. The fish remained small and very definitely cooked, not changing at all.
"I'm eating it," she announced after waiting a few long moments.
"Go ahead, the others are getting you five more," the one who had brought the fish agreed. "You tried."
A small whirlwind of disemboweling claws, tearing teeth, and fish chunks exploded into being. The Terror was one misstep away from wrestling with it, she was eating so ravenously.
"You did." The Zippleback looked at itself, both heads eyeing the rapidly disappearing fish, and then each other. "Would it perhaps need to be living?" one asked.
"I think maybe it would not matter," the other head responded. "But we can try that."
"We should have tried that first," the first remonstrated.
"Slow and steady," the other countered. "If we had succeeded with a live one, we still would have had to check to see if it worked on a dead one. Dead would be far more convenient."
"Next time," both heads announced, "we will go to the sea stacks and try with a live fish. If anyone is willing to try."
"You know you have a line of Flickers a dozen long willing to get rid of their Solar fire," Astrid's guide laughed. "You will not lack volunteers."
"No, we will not." Both heads looked to Astrid. "And you? Would you volunteer your Solar fire?"
Astrid shook her head. "I don't intend to use it, but I don't know what the future holds. It might be needed someday." Someday soon, if she could figure out how to be sure her attack would succeed.
"We understand. That is the reason we still possess our own Solar flame." The Zippleback snorted. "All this collected knowledge, but only one chance to ever use it. What if we use it, and then discover later some novel application that we would rather have put it towards?"
"Also, we would be giving up whatever benefits having it may convey, such as sensing it in others," the left head added solemnly. "So we would need to be very, very sure, because to do so may hamper our investigations in some as of now unforseen way."
"Speaking of which," the right head said abruptly, "you have a keen mind. Can you perhaps tell us what is the obvious flaw in this experiment?"
Astrid raised the ridges above her eyes that would be eyebrows on a human face. "You did this knowing there was a flaw?"
"An intrinsic one," the right head confirmed, while the left head made an annoyed clicking sound. "Do you see it?"
She thought about everything she knew in regards to Solar fire. The flaw was not hard to spot now that she knew there was one, and that she just wasn't privy to the reasons it could have worked. "Flickers should only be able to create Flickers. Not fish."
"Yes, that was more what we were hoping to check on, not so much the possibility of creating massive fish," both heads explained happily, alternating words without the slightest hitch. "If a fish could be created, then we would have proved that assumption false. Disproving things is easier than proving things."
"Of course, we would also be disproving another assumption, if this had worked," one head mentioned idly. "Solar fire only works on living creatures. Next week's test is a narrower one, using a live fish to avoid that contradiction, but we were going to do both, so we chose to start with this one."
Astrid's head was spinning a little from trying to follow them both at the same time, but she understood their motivation, if not their odd methods. And they considered her bright, which was a nice change of pace from having her body complimented.
Best of all, if they considered her curious, which they did, she could ask questions about what Solar fire could do without raising suspicions that might need to be reported to Inferna. "I do have a few questions about Solar fire, actually."
"Oh, yes, that should be fun." The Zippleback shuffled forward, both heads staring eagerly. "Ask."
"Solar fire... is it stronger under the sun?" That was a random idea she had wondered about, given the name of the power. Even if it was, knowing as much would be totally useless unless she could somehow get some sun onto Inferna, but it was a good introductory question.
"Not really," the right head answered. "Though it is hard to be sure. Not noticeably, so if it is the difference in strength, or duration, or whatever the sun might affect is too minimal to care about."
"But," the left head exclaimed, "it does come from the sun, so there is a connection. Just not one of that nature."
There was a question Astrid actually wanted answered. "How does it come from the sun?" she asked.
Both heads frowned at her, two sets of eyes narrowing. "There are two answers," they both said.
"On one paw, the story all fledglings are told," the right head began.
"And on the other, evidence and observation," the left finished. "Which do you want to hear? Some flames do not like the latter."
"Both." She had time.
"We will go with the latter first, then, as it is the more depressing of the two." The Zippleback slumped, his necks bending down until his heads were on level with her own. "We have no idea."
"Really?" That was not what she had been expecting at all. "You know all about it, but you don't know where it comes from?"
"By evidence, we have nothing," the left head continued, while the right shook morosely. "Not the slightest clue. And believe us, we have spent many, many moons trying to answer that question alone. We have given up, to use our time on things we stand a chance of understanding instead."
"That is a depressing answer," Astrid confirmed. "So what's the happy one?"
"The legend of how all came to be." The Zippleback wound its necks together, making it appear to be one thick-necked, mutated dragon with far too many mouths and eyes. It spoke in unison.
"The world was empty. Nothing with a mind existed. Greenery flourished, the sea crashed and raged, and animals roamed, but there were none to appreciate it all. The sun gave life, but that life was empty. One day, the sun decided that it had failed, and meant to start over."
"Wait, the sun made everything?" That was a new one. She hadn't expected Norse gods – she'd never heard a dragon make any reference to the gods at all – but this was weird all the same.
"Everything," the Zippleback confirmed. "And now it wanted to destroy and start anew, in hopes of creating something of value. So it set fire to the world. But this was not just fire, the sun's wrath was imbued with its desires, and new things emerged from the ashes of what it burned. Things that looked up and asked 'why?'. Things that thought and hoped and dreamed."
"Each fire created something different," the Zippleback continued after a quiet moment. "Coals, Flickers, Bolts, and many more. The sun grew enthusiastic, and made more, bigger fires. Countless more were created, intelligent, capable of understanding, and different from all that had come before."
"But then," one head whispered suddenly, breaking the perfect harmony both had created by speaking together, "the sun heard something."
"Cries of pain, of grief," the other head hissed.
"The sun looked down on its first creations, and saw them suffering, burning, dying in the fires of the new creations it had begun in its enthusiasm."
"There was a limit to what the world could hold. Only so much to burn. The sun stopped, horrified by what it had done, and forced itself to be content with what was, instead of wishing for more and dooming those it had already created."
"But," and here both heads came back into sync, "the sun did one more thing. A final, powerful fire that did not kill or hurt. All who ventured into it while it lasted were gifted something in exchange for their forgiveness, for that was what it took to believe this new fire would not kill like the others had."
"Solar fire," Astrid guessed.
"Yes," they hissed. "Solar fire. All who forgave were granted an equal amount, and in it was the essence of fire, of change, of creation. It was a gift to heal the hurts the sun had caused, a reminder that would be passed on to all descending from those first flames, a tool of change. A tool that could only be used once, to prevent greed like the sun had suffered from."
Nobody spoke for a long moment. Astrid wasn't sure she believed any of that, but it was certainly simple, and even if it was false, it was a good thing to think about. She was pretty sure there was a lesson in there about greed, though it would take someone more eloquent than her to express that message any clearer than the story had.
"That is the story we pass on," the Zippleback concluded, unwinding its heads and speaking in a more conversational tone. "It is certainly a nice one. If it all really happened, then one must conclude that of those not gifted with Solar flame, only the Flightless have survived this long."
"Or," the left head suggested, "they have it, but cannot ever use it because they create flame outside of their bodies. So it is dormant until they have a body that can use it, such as in your case, female Bolt."
"That would explain why Flightless turned to flames have it," the right head agreed. "Also supporting that theory is the fact that if a Flicker with no Solar fire is changed to another kind of flame, they will not regain their Solar fire in the process."
Astrid nodded quietly. She needed some air; stories were all well and good, but she wanted to clear her head for a brief while. Flying would be nice. "Thank you for telling me all of that. It was interesting."
"We see you are done here, but feel free to ask us more at any time," the Zippleback offered. "Gathering, learning, and passing on what we know is our reason for existing."
That was pretty blunt. "You don't have anything else to do?" she asked.
"We are not easy to get along with," he admitted. "No female can stand us for very long. So we have no mate, no offspring, and no family. But we do not mind all that much. Learning and teaching in turn is enough for us, and we say that truthfully."
Truthfully... "Do Inferna's commands ever wear off?" she asked, remembering one command in particular.
"No," the Zippleback said solemnly.
"So... you're still stuck telling nothing but the truth?" Astrid asked. She didn't remember Inferna ever removing that command.
"Are we?" The Zippleback shrugged. "Yes, but we never lie anyway. Of all her commands, that one is easiest to follow."
That was interesting, another brick laid in the groundwork of her understanding... But Astrid could feel herself losing patience for small talk in a cave when she could be out in the open. "I must go now." She left with a polite nod to both the Zippleback and the Terror, and made her way back to the exit. Before she could even ask, the same Terrors from before shoved the rock aside in yet another demonstration of both strength and leverage.
Moments later, she was in the air. Her tired wings precluded a relaxing flight, but she could go to the Night Fury and refill his conch shell, at least. She had a lot to think about.
Author's Note: So, a chapter on Terrible Terrors, secret societies, and origin myths. Where am I going with all of this beyond just worldbuilding? Wait and see. Also, that's the first origin myth I've ever created for any story of mine; most of my stories are set in circumstances where there's no need for them. I quite enjoyed trying my hand at it, actually.